


The Engines are Dead

by RL_BlackRose



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Apocalypse, Gen, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-26
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 02:49:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/546828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RL_BlackRose/pseuds/RL_BlackRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While carrying an a package to California, the crew gets a desperate call from an air-traffic controller. With his dying breath, he tells them that the package they're carrying is important- and then, silence. Now, stuck in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, maybe in posession of the means to end it, they must figure out how to survive. Some very light Martin/Douglas! Inspired by tumblr user kogla's art. (Fanfiction.net link: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8618008/1/The-Engines-are-Dead )</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! In honor of the fact that I have now finished Cabin Pressure, I decided to (try to) WRITE FANFICTION FOR IT :D Now, I know I'm no John Finnemore- but BEAR WITH ME. Anyway, I got this idea from the tumblr user kogla- she makes Cabin Pressure zombie apocalypse art- and I loved the idea SO MUCH! Thanks, Kogla! Hope you guys like this! Please review! XD  
> Be forewarned, though- this doesn't stay lighthearted for long! 
> 
> (P.S- I am ALWAYS going back and tweaking the words, but the plot will stay the same! I do it in waves, so whenever I'm editing a certain chapter, I will add the "Travelling editing lemon" to the Notes, so you know that the writing in later chapters will improve. You'll know it when you see it!)

Chapter One

It was an especially long flight, from England to California and onto some godforsaken island in the middle of the Pacific.

Needless to say, Arthur was being annoying.

He peeked into the flight deck. "So, what's in the box?"  

"Can you go away?" Martin sighed, weary. "Please?"

Douglas turned. "Arthur, how many times have you asked that now?"

"I don't know! I know that it's more than once, since you just asked me how many times I've said it and I-"

"This is the thirteenth time you've asked, and each time we confirmed that we don't know." Douglas said, "And, as my good friend Einstein used to say, 'Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.'"

Arthur gasped. "You were friends with Albert Einstein? Wow!"

Martin's fists clenched.. "Arthur-!"

"Boys?" Carolyn walked up, behind Arthur. "Sorry to interrupt your _fascinating_ conversation- but how far are we from California, now?"

"Uhhhh…" Martin eyed the controls. "We're-"

"-3 hours and 45 minutes away from Los Angeles, exactly." Douglas finished, smug.

"Douglas!" Martin complained, turning to him. "Would it kill you to stop interrupting me?"

"I'm not sure." Douglas mused, tilting his head. "If I had to guess- yes, probably."

"Well- well, not if I kill you first!" Martin yelled, grabbing for his throat-

"Boys, you're flying a PLANE!" Carolyn yelled. "Boys-!"

Arthur's eyes lit up. "Hey, I just remembered something! Did you know that the only dog that doesn't have a pink tongue is the-"

But they never did hear about dogs, or manage to kill each other, for that matter, because at that very moment the Sat-com crackled on.

"Golf-Tango-India, can you hear me? Hello? Hello?"

They all froze. Why were they being called? They were hours away from their destination…

Martin released Douglas and grabbed the microphone. "Yes, hello? I think you've called the wrong plane, because-"

"Get out of the sky." The person on the other end seemed out of breath. "Get out of the sky, NOW!"

Douglas snatched the microphone, and Martin seethed. "What do you mean, 'get out of the sky'? Why?"

"The air force is coming through!" he shouted. "They'll shoot anything still flying! Land while you still can!"

"What's going on?" Douglas urged. Martin and Carolyn had frozen in shock, or fear, or both, while Arthur just stood there, looking confused. "Why is the air force coming through?"

A splintering noise was heard, in the backround of the microphone. "Ohhh, they're coming, they're coming." A pause, as he gasped for breath. "Land wherever you can. It's all over. Save yourselves. Don't let them bite you. Listen- I've been contacted, about the package you're carrying. You can end this. Now, listen carefully; this is what you have to-" A loud noise sounded in the background. "Ah- AAAAAAAAaaahh-!"

Silence.

"Hello?" Douglas said, a dread settling in the pit of his stomach. "Hello? Are you there?"

Martin held his head in desperation. "What do we do?" he whined. "What's in the package? What's happening, what do we have to do, I didn't ask for this!-"

Carolyn's brow furrowed. "What's going to bite us? Is it some sort of black plague?"

Douglas was silent.

"I don't know." He said finally. "But may I suggest that we start by landing?"

"But that's against the rules, landing without instructions from a tower!" Martin huffed. "We'll just have to keep going, so-"

Douglas rolled his eyes. "Martin, do you really think this is a time for rules?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Carolyn looked around, confused. "Where are all the planes? And the people?"

Where they had landed, the runway was empty. Not a sound was heard.

"How is this happening?" Martin checked the GPS. "We're in Missouri, and no planes?"

"Now can I ask what's in the box?" Arthur begged.

"You know what, Arthur?" Douglas said. "I think that's a very good idea. Carolyn, where's the box?"

"Right here." Carolyn brought it forward. She set it on the floor, and they all sat down around it.

"All right." Douglas reached for the lid. "Now, I'll-"

"No, I can do it." Martin said crossly, pushing Douglas' hand away. He grabbed the top of the box and pulled-

As soon as the lid came off, Arthur leaned forward. "Let me see let me see let me-!"

Then, he stopped.

"That's it?" Carolyn sounded disappointed as she pulled the binder out, opening it. She flipped through. "What is this?"

The paper was covered in complicated-looking equations, strange diagrams, and perhaps strangest of all, two pictures of two different chickens. In the first one, they were sitting side-by-side in different cages, both healthy. In the second one, one of them looked healthy, but the other looked rotten and its feathers had all fallen out.

"Oh, that's disgusting!" Arthur grabbed the picture. "Why would they send a picture of a dead chicken? Did they kill the chicken? Why would they do something like that to the poor thing?"

Martin looked out the window, and his eyes grew wide. "Guys?"

"What is all this gibberish?" Douglas muttered, flipping through the pages. "It looks like some sort of complicated formula-"

"Guuuuys?" Martin said, turning back to them, and to the window again, "Hey!"

"How can we do anything with this?" Carolyn said. "We're not chemists, and-!"

"Guys, PLEASE- listen to me!" Martin yelled. "I see people!"

Everyone was quiet.

Douglas stared at him for a second, then got up and went over to the window. "Are you sure? Where-" But then he stopped, because he saw them too.

There must have been hundreds of them, walking slowly towards the plane. No, walking was the wrong word- ambling or stumbling best described their gait.

"Something's wrong." Carolyn said. "Something's gone horribly wrong."

"No, it hasn't!" Arthur opened the door of the plane. "Now we can ask what's going on! Guys-!" Suddenly, he wrinkled his nose and winced. "What _is_ that?"

Douglas suddenly realized something was very wrong. His eyes narrowed. He spoke slowly. "What's... that... sound?"

"They're groaning." Martin said softly, eyes fixed on the people- no, not people. Now that they were closer, he could see that they might have been people before- but not anymore. Now they were mottled and broken, dragging their rotting bodies behind them.

At once, fear registered on Arthur's face. "Zombies!" He yelped, slamming the door shut and backing away. "They're zombies! It's the zombie apocalypse!"

"That's ridiculous!" Carolyn shouted. "There's no such thing-"

"Carolyn, look out the window." Douglas took her by the arm, an urgent tone in his voice. "If you tell me that those are anything but zombies…"

"Oh, so now you've gone insane too?" Carolyn shook her head. "I understand Arthur, but you-?"

"Don't let them bite you." Martin groaned. "That's what he said! Don't let them bite you!"

"Well, maybe it's a prank!" She shrugged, desparate.

"Seems like an awfully complicated prank to me." Douglas said. "In any case, we've got to run. Now."

"Run where?" Martin's voice was panicked, and he hugged his arms. "Into the forest? If they're zombies, they'll be everywhere!"

"Doesn't matter!" Douglas could hear the zombie's moans through the walls of the plane, now. "All we know is that they're not friendly, and we've got to go!" He practically ripped the door open, and grabbed the binder. "Now, RUN!"

The racket from outside grew louder, and Martin had to shout to be heard. "I THINK YOU'RE FORGETTING THE TINY DETAIL OF 'THERE'S NO BLOODY LADDER!'"

"That's what this is for!" Douglas pulled down a lever. The emergency slide inflated with a bang.

Arthur clapped his hands together. "Wow, I've always wanted to try this!" This is _brilliant_!"

"Not the time, Arthur!" Carolyn said, getting on and sliding down. Arthur went down after, sticking his hands in the air and laughing. Martin and Douglas followed.

It was summer, so the tarmac was hot, so hot that waves rose from it. The sound of zombies was deafening now, so they turned and ran under the plane, away, and into the forest that awaited them.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any reviews would be glorious! ^_^ WOOOO  
> 

Chapter Two

Arthur ran ahead of the rest of the crew, spreading his arms and grinning. "This is brilliant!"

They were all walking through the forest, tired and annoyed. The only thing they had was the clothes on their backs and the axe from the plane, which Douglas was carrying.

Martin gave him a look. "How is this brilliant?! We're stuck in the middle of a forest without food or water!"

Arthur nodded. "Yeah- but still, it's like one of those survival shows!" He glanced at Martin out of the corner of his eye. "You know- like the ones with the people eating bugs off trees-"

Carolyn groaned. "We are not going to eat bugs off trees, Arthur! We are going to find people and ask them what's going on."

"You're assuming that there are still people around." Douglas added. "Which, judging by the number of zombies we saw back there, is unlikely."

"Why- why do we have to call them zombies, though?" Martin shrugged. "Zombies don't sound threatening. They sound like- like- washing machines."

Douglas turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "Ignoring the fact that you've just compared the living dead to- _washing machines_ , of all things- what else would we call them?"

"Oh!" Arthur said, excited. "I know, I know! How about- dead-people… who aren't… really… dead…?"

"Sure, that's a great idea!" Carolyn said sarcastically. "Hey, look out! There's a dead person who is not really dead behind- AHhhhhhhhh!"

"Where?!" Arthur whirled around and tripped over a root. He fell over, landing flat on his face on the forest floor.

Martin sighed, reaching for his arm and pulling him upright. "How about moaners?"

Douglas smirked a little. "That sounds vaguely dirty-"

"Oh, shut up, Douglas- I'm- I'm just trying to be helpful!"

"Nevertheless, we are not calling them moaners." Carolyn scoffed. "Let's just call them 'the dead' and be done with that."

"Look, it's a the dead!" Arthur shouted.

Douglas shook his head. "No, never mind- let's just stick with zombies. Arthur will need the extra brain power."

"No, really!" Arthur pointed up ahead, franitcally moving his arm. "Zombie!"

There was a lone zombie stumbling towards them. By its clothes they could tell it had been a policeman, but now its entire lower jaw was gone, leaving only jagged pieces of skin.

Martin scrambled around, turning to go back. "Run!" he yelled-

Douglas grabbed the back of his collar, lifted him up, and set him back where he'd been standing before. "No." A curious look sparkled in his eyes. "If we're going to deal with these, we have to learn how to kill them."

"No, Douglas, we're all going to die!" Martin pulled his hat over his eyes, shrinking down. "Don't do it!"

Douglas rolled his eyes. He strode forward, taking his axe from where it was hung across his back. The zombie lunged forward, letting out a groan, but Douglas swung his axe across the zombie's throat. It made a clean cut, and both sections of zombie fell on the ground. The leaves below it flooded with blood.

Martin, who'd been peeking in horror at the scene, gagged and turned away. Arthur bit his lip.

Douglas, seemingly undisturbed, leaned over and took the zombie policeman's gun from him. Then, he rummaged in its pants, finding 4 clips of ammunition. He stood, and walked back to the group.

"We should find a building to stay in. I see a road in that direction-"

"You know how to use axes? And guns? And how to kill zombies?" Martin said, eyeing him suspiciously "What else can you do?"

"Everything." Douglas smirked, turning to walk away. The rest followed him.

Arthur looked up at him nervously, then looked down again. Then, he looked up, opening his mouth, but decided not to say anything and closed it again.

"If you want to say something-" Douglas started-

"Did you kill him?" Arthur blurted. Then, he turned red. "No- that's not what I- I just- why did you kill it?"

"What do you mean, why did I kill it?" Douglas said. "I think you know the answer to that."

"No." Arthur fiddled with his hands. "But it wasn't bothering us, and-"

"Arthur, it's a zombie." Douglas said firmly. "We've just put a poor policeman to rest. We did him a favor."

"Well, I don't like it." Arthur muttered, kicking at the leaves under his feet.

Carolyn looked sideways at him. "No one said you had to."

They kept walking.

"Anyway, how can you swing an axe like that?" Martin said. "I thought you were- what is it, now- fifty-two!"

"You know what?" Douglas looked back at them. "Just in case we don't make it out of this alive- I'm not really fifty-two. I'm forty-two."

Everyone stopped short.

"What?" he said, turning to face them. "People respect you when you're older."

Carolyn's brow furrowed. "But- but that would mean you're only-"

"-a few years older than Martin, yes." Douglas spread his arms wide, and shrugged "Yet still a better captain."

Martin's fists clenched.

"Wow!" Arthur said. "That's brilliant!"

"No, it's not!" Martin stalked off angrily.

Arthur looked after him. "Why does he have his pants in a tangle?"

"It's, 'he's got his knickers in a knot'." Carolyn said.

Arthur laughed. "That's silly, why would he do that? Honestly, mum!"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hide!" Carolyn hissed. Everyone ducked behind a truck, and Douglas peeked around. "How many?"

Douglas turned back to them. "Five or six. I see a gas station, over there- it's getting dark, and we need to find a place to stay. And some newspapers wouldn't hurt, either."

Arthur clasped his hands hopefully. "Are you going to do your axe thing?"

"No." Douglas said. "We are going to be quiet and-"

Carolyn shook her head. "This is Arthur we're talking about, Douglas. Arthur doesn't _do_ 'quiet'."

Douglas shrugged it off. "Well, he'll have to. Now, on the count of three-"

"Wait!" Martin interrupted. "This is a terrible idea. We have a gun! We can kill them!"

"And waste ammunition? I don't think so."

"Douglas-!"

"So on the count of three. One…"

"No, stop! I'm not ready!"

"Two…"

"Stop it, I'm- I'm not going!"

Carolyn rolled her eyes. "Oh, for heaven's sake- Douglas, stop."

"Really?" Douglas gave him a condescending look. "Martin, safety is within a minute of running."

Martin hugged himself. "No!" Douglas saw now that he was shaking a little. An edge of desperation crept into his voice- "I can't do it, I won't!"

"Martin, you're a pilot. You've landed a plane with an engine on fire, and you expect me to believe that you can't run past a couple of dead people-?"

"I can't!" 

"It's okay, Martin!" Arthur put a hand on his shoulder. "Even if you do get bitten, all Douglas has to do is use his axe and you'll be in heaven with all the otters! Otters are great!"

Martin let out a strangled noise and pulled his hat over his eyes.

Carolyn glared at him. "You're not helping!"

"I know," they heard Douglas say. Martin looked up, noticing that his first mate had shrugged off his jacket-

"What-?"

"Three."

All of a sudden, before anyone could say anything else, Douglas had grabbed Martin around the shoulders, dragged him off his knees, and ran. He wrapped the coat around them, blocking Martin's view of the zombies.

Martin was frozen for a second, stumbling as he was pulled along, but then he snapped to awareness and struggled to break free. His hands pushed at Douglas' chest. "Stop! Stop, please!"

"If we try to stop now we'll die, you clot!" Douglas shouted. "Keep moving!"

"But they're-"

"Out of sight, out of mind!"

So they ran, followed closely behind by Carolyn and Arthur, towards the gas station and the store behind it. The sounds of the dead followed them, surrounding the noise of their breaths and their pounding footsteps on the pavement.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Martin still hasn't moved!" Arthur announced.

Carolyn didn't even look up this time. "Yes, we can see that."

Martin was huddled in a corner of the store, knees drawn up to his chest and hat pulled down. They couldn't see his face.

"Hey, Skip!" Arthur waved in front of his face. "Anyone home? Hello?"

"That's enough, Arthur." Douglas came out from behind a shelf. "Go find the lemon."

"Okay!" Arthur jumped up and ran off. Carolyn sighed so loudly that Douglas could hear her from across the dingy room.

He knelt in front of Martin.

"Hey."

Silence.

"What's the difference between a pilot and a jet engine?"

"Go away." Martin moaned.

"I said, what's the difference between a pilot and a jet engine?"

Martin hesitated, then peeked out from the window between his knees, his orange curls and his hat. "What?"

"When the plane lands, the jet engine stops whining."

Martin let out something that sounded like a laugh. It might've been a sneeze, though. Douglas couldn't tell.

"You know, what I did out there was only to help you."

Martin looked away, anywhere but at Douglas. "Well, whole lot of good _that_ did!" 

Douglas raised his eyebrows. "Martin, we're in a store full of food. With a phone somewhere, maybe. And newspapers. I'd say that this has, indeed, done us a whole lot of good."

"But you didn't have to do... _that_!" Martin drew his knees up again. "You could've gotten me killed!"

"If I remember correctly," Douglas said, " _You_ were the one who was panicking and dragging us both back, so our zombie friends could come over and say hi- in their own special zombie way, of course."

"I didn't want any of this!" Martin's breaths sped up. "I don't want to be here, I want to be back in my attic, where there are no living dead or- or-!"

"Hey, Douglas!" Arthur called. "I found something! Not the lemon, but still something! It's as exciting as the lemon, though. More exciting! Really, come look!"

"All right, I'm coming." Douglas stood and stuck out his hand. "Martin, you're the captain. I think you've got to see this."

Martin sniffled, then reluctantly took his hand.

When they got to him, Arthur had a newspaper in his hand.

"Look!" He pointed at the headline article.

'Chaos and destruction in the center of the U.S- is this the zombie apocalypse?'

They read on.

'Residents in and around Kansas are mysteriously dying and coming back to life as living dead. This started around 5:00 A.M Monday morning, but mysteriously stopped. Now, the dead- or 'zombies', as they are known in pop culture- are spreading their bite, which is said to be infectious. The reason is unknown, but officials have declared this an emergency…'

The article just got worse and worse, talking about evacuations and the air force bombing the states. It was the only news on the entire paper, peppered with pictures of evacuations and helicopters hovering over empty towns. Or, in some cases, towns that weren't quite empty- which was sometimes worse.

Carolyn tilted her head to one side. "Why didn't we hear about this before we left? It's Tuesday afternoon, and we left on Monday night!"

"But we weren't in our houses then." Douglas said, "We were in the house of the wealthy guy who was paying us to ship this package, remember? He invited us to stay for the night. Then, he took us to his private airfield…"

Martin grabbed the newspaper with shaking hands. "So what, it was planned? It was _planned_ that we'd be running for our lives, now?"

"…carrying the binder." Carolyn said. "I would bet anything that it's some sort of cure."

"We just need to find someone who knows how to do that, then. Arthur, Carolyn- why don't you look for a yellow pages book? I'm sure there's one or two around here." Douglas gestured towards the counter.

Arthur nodded. "Sure thing!" 

"I hope you know what you're doing." Carolyn muttered.

Martin was about to go too, but Douglas took his arm. "Martin, you're coming with me."

"What?" Martin fidgeted nervously. "Are you going to drag me somewhere else this time? How about a minefield? Or a gun range?"

Douglas gave a sly smile. "Actually, you're not entirely wrong."

"You're taking me to a minefield?!" Martin yelled in shock, trying to wrench his arm away.

"No, no, nothing like that! Just come with me, out the back of the store."

"But what about the-?"

"None there. I checked."

Martin swallowed as he felt Douglas' hand on his back, guiding him towards the door. "What do you want to do, anyway?"

Douglas opened the door, and they stepped out. Martin looked around, then back at Douglas-

Who was now holding a gun to his head.

Martin let out a yell and stumbled back, and Douglas chuckled. "It's not loaded, you know."

"WHYWOULDYOUDOTHAT?" Martin gasped.

"Here, put these on." Douglas said, handing him a pair of what looked like headphones.

Martin's eyes darted from the headphones to the gun to the ammunition that Douglas was holding, and then he shook his head. "No."

"Remember today, running to this place?" Douglas said. "What if a zombie had gotten too close?"

"Well- well, anyway, YOU'RE the one who does stuff like that!" Martin started backing away. "Not me!"

Douglas took the headphones and snapped them onto Martin's head. "Well then, now's your chance to be like me. Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

Martin reddened. "Why, you-!"

Douglas ignored him, pushing one of the clips of ammunition into the gun. Then, he held it out.

Martin took it hesitantly, testing its weight in his hand. Then, he pointed it straight ahead and pulled the trigger-

Nothing.

Martin shook the gun. "Douglas, why isn't it working? Douglas-!"

Douglas gave him a long stare, then reached for the gun and pulled the safety back.

"Oh." Martin said. "Right. Okay." He pointed it-

"No, no, you're doing it all wrong." Douglas' voice was bored. He reached around Martin from behind, steadying his hands.

Martin felt Douglas' arms around his and turned red again, sending out a silent prayer that Douglas wouldn't notice.

"Is something wrong, Martin?"

_Bloody hell._

"What? Wrong? With me? Nothing! Nothing! Nothing!"

"You just said nothing three times, which leads me to believe that there isn't, in fact, 'nothing'.

Martin's ears were a deep shade of crimson now. "Weren't you just teaching me how to hold a gun?!"

Douglas smirked and got closer. "You're still not holding it right."

Martin's skin darkened into a beautiful shade of macchiato-cherry red.

"And… shoot!"

Martin pulled the trigger, and cried out as the recoil brought him stumbling back onto Douglas, who caught him.

"Tsk, tsk." Douglas shook his head. "Focus, put your strength into it!"

Martin pointed the gun again, aiming for a nearby tree-

BLAM.

"I did it!" he said happily, giving a little hop of joy. "I shot a gun! HA-!"

Carolyn screamed.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO, BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE~ don't worry, the angsty-sad part is coming up soon, after this chapter! Expect it! Oh, and any kind of reviews- are they called comments on this site? I'm used to fanfiction.net!- would be SO amazing. Thanks! XD  
>  **=THE TRAVELLING EDITING LEMON IS HERE=** (No idea what this is? Check the first Notes!)

Chapter Three

Carolyn's short scream pierced the quiet afternoon air.

Douglas whirled, running back into the store "Just stay here!" he called back.

Martin barreling after him. "Not on your life!"

When they burst into the store, they saw that Carolyn was fending off a zombie with a broom. It fell to the floor and started crawling forward, making a screeching noise and snapping at her ankles.

"Martin, shoot it!" Douglas yelled.

Martin held his gun up, pointing it at the zombie. His hands started shaking- _what if I hit Carolyn?_ he thought frantically- the zombie grabbed the broom and smashed it against the wall-

"NOT MY MUM, YOU DEAD-PERSON-THAT-ISN'T-REALLY-DEAD!" Arthur hollered, bringing his phone book down on the zombie's head.

It stopped and twisted its head 180 degrees to face him, seemingly unaffected.

"Whoops." Arthur squeaked, but then Douglas was there, slicing through the zombie's neck with his axe.

Carolyn was breathing quickly, and she sat heavily on a nearby chair.

"You all right, mum?"

"I'm fi-"

"I couldn't do it!" Martin cried, letting the gun dangle uselessly from his hand as he covered his face. "I could've killed the zombie, but I didn't!"

Douglas was quiet for a second, but then he shrugged. "This time, I was here. Next time, though, I might not be. You've got to work on your-"

"I'm so useless!" Martin shook his head. "I hate it, I hate it!"

"You're not useless. Besides, we might have more important things to worry about- Carolyn, where exactly _did_ that zombie come from?"

"Closet." Carolyn pointed. "Back there."

"Any try to get in yet?"

Arthur nodded. "We heard one, a while ago! It made a whole lot of noise, then walked away. Well, not walked. Well-"

"We get the point." Douglas said. "Anyway, I think we should all just get some sleep. Any idea where?"

"I found some blankets and flashlights in the back office!" Arthur piped. "Here, I'll go get them!"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Douglas didn't know why he woke up. What he did notice, however, was that Martin wasn't in his bed. Well- pile of blankets. There were no beds.

The second thing he noticed, probably the reason he woke up, was the sound of gunshots piercing the night.

He rose, slowly standing up. Under the cover of Carolyn's ground-shaking snoring, he crept over to the door in the back. Through the glass, he could see Martin.

His carrot-orange hair rustled in the wind, dancing around the headphones over his ears. Combined with the subtle light of the moon, casting flickering shadows over his freckled face, it gave him the eerie look of a ghost.

He pointed his gun at a nearby tree. Its leaves rustled in the wind-

_BAM!_

Martin held the gun steady as a flash of bright light burst from the barrel. The bullet whistled through the air, hitting the tree with a soft thud, and a shower of bark rained down onto the dewy grass below.

But in that tiny second of light, Douglas had managed to see the tears trickling off his jaw.

"Oh, Martin." He sighed, opening the door and stepping outside.

Martin jumped in surprise. His hands flew to his chest, and he gasped. "Douglas, don't scare me like that!"

"I don't know." Douglas crossed his arms. "Usually, when you find someone outside shooting a gun at a defenseless tree and crying his eyes out, it's not a good sign."

"I wasn't crying my eyes out! There's wind, and it's in my eyes, and-"

"Doesn't matter. If I may ask, though- what _are_ you doing?"

"I don't want to be afraid anymore." Martin said quietly. "I don't want to be poor, defenseless Martin, forever the damsel in distress who slows everyone down! Is that too much to ask?"

"No," Douglas agreed, "But I think that you've wasted enough ammunition on that menacing, dangerous tree. You should get back to sleep."

Martin sighed, putting the gun back in his pocket. He walked over to Douglas, who had his hand on the doorknob.

Douglas smiling as he pulled the door open."You know what they say- damsels in distress first."

Martin stopped for a second to glare at him, then pushed his way past the door and collapsed onto his pile of blankets.

Douglas sat on his makeshift bed, next to Martin's, and he could hear that the pilot was already asleep. His breaths came and went slowly, and his eyes were closed. He had a look of peace on his face, something Douglas rarely got to see.

He lay down, but found that he couldn't sleep. Instead, he went and picked up the binder they'd been instructed to ship, and flipped through it.

Suddenly, he realized there was a note tucked into the back pocket. He pulled it out and skimmed through it.

He raised his eyebrows.

_What?_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Wake up!" Carolyn yelled in Arthur's ear. Nothing. Arthur was sound asleep, spread out like a squid over the tiled floor of the store.

"I know." Douglas said. He took a box of energy bars from a nearby shelf and upended it over Arthur, who screamed and shot up, batting the cheap food away from him as if it were a swarm of hornets.

Carolyn stood. "Finally. You sleep like the dead, Arthur."

Martin turned and gave Carolyn an annoyed look.

"Too soon?"

Douglas shook his head. "It's always too soon for him. Anyway," he went on, ignoring an especially dirty look from Martin, "You all might want to see this."

Arthur ran over to him."Oooh, see what?"

"Do you _ever_ run out of energy?" Martin muttered under his breath. "Or optimism?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed in concentration. "What's opt-imus-?"

"Oh, never mind!"

"Are you two done?" said Carolyn.

"Let's hope they are," Douglas said, "because it appears that our dear customer- Dr. Jenner, was it?- has left us a very peculiar note." He held it out to Carolyn.

"No, I'll read it, I'm the captain here!" Martin snapped, snatching it away. His eyes went from side to side as he read.

"What?" he said finally.

"Well, _captain_ , why don't you read it out loud to us?" Douglas taunted.

"Yes- yes, I will!" Martin said. He held it up to his eyes.

_Dear friends,_

_Hello! If you are reading this, you have opened the package I left you. Don't you know they say curiosity killed the cat? Ah, but if you've opened this package, I'm guessing that you have bigger problems than curiosity to worry about. Thanks so much for your help, though! If you ever need anything, anything at all, you can go to my friend, Dr. Edward. Just say that I sent you! In fact, if somehow you fail to deliver the package to its original destination, would you mind delivering it to him? He lives at 5475 Crownover Street, in Missouri. But seriously, deliver it… OR THE DAYS OF YOUR LIVES ARE NUMBERED! Haha, just kidding! I would never kill you. Especially not your pilot, the short one. He seems important._

_Good luck, Dr. Jenner._

No one spoke for the longest time.

Martin broke the silence. "Why'd he have to call me short?!" he said, insulted.

"Look on the bright side!" Arthur said. "He called you important too, right?"

"He planned this, somehow." Carolyn said. "Well, this is just great! Before it was just, 'we're stranded in the middle of a zombie apocalypse', but now, now it's even better! It's, 'We've been stranded in the middle of a zombie apocalypse on purpose by a man who has clearly lost his mind'."

"What could he have possibly meant by all that?" Douglas said. "Maybe there's something else, hidden in the pages of the binder."

He flipped through it. Nothing stood out, except for one string of numbers and letters from the many that filled its pages, which was boxed in.

9Br+15CA/Al9+K12 = 19Li – 2Na, for 15Ra and Fr8/B4 + 14In

"That doesn't even look like a real chemical equation!" Martin said, baffled. "I learned this at school!"

"Well, since I've learned not to trust your judgment on these things," Douglas said, "I think we should visit Mr. Edward, at 5475 Crownover Street. Wouldn't you agree? I'm sure there's a map in this store."

"That sounds like a great idea, Douglas, but I fear you might be forgetting something." Carolyn said. "Do we have a car?"

"What about Gerti?" Arthur said.

"Oh, sure, Arthur!" Martin said. "Let's all get on a plane and fly it to his house. It'll be fine, fine!"

"Actually," Douglas said. "We're right next to a six-lane highway, which, according to this map-" he held it up- "Will take us right into the city, and from there, we can find this person's house. We can use it as a runway-"

"Are you kidding?!" Martin yelled. "This is a plane we're talking about! Not a car, or a little toy helicopter, a PLANE! Not only would it be illegal, it would be extremely dangerous-"

"So what, you prefer being eaten by the dead?" Douglas said. "I know I don't."

"But-!"

"Do you really think this is a time for rules, Martin?"

"Douglas-!"

"Oh, Martin, I understand." Douglas said, grinning like a cat. "If you're too scared to perform such a feat, then I'll be glad to take the wheel."

"You-! Fine! I'll do it! Are you happy now?!" Martin said.

"Really, Douglas?" Carolyn said, rolling her eyes. "Him? I would feel safer if-"

"Don't worry, Skip!" Arthur said. " _I_ believe in you!"

"Somehow, Arthur, that makes me feel even worse." Martin mumbled.

"Okay." Douglas said, clapping his hands together. "Now, what do we need?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

About half an hour later, they were ready.

Douglas carried his axe, Martin had his gun in hand, Carolyn had a backpack filled with supplies and a rifle she had found in the back, and Arthur was fiddling with a tube of lipstick.

"Are we ready?" Douglas said. "Let's-"

"Wait!" Arthur said, running over to Martin.

"What are you doing?!" Martin said, closing his eyes as Arthur reached up and scribbled something on his forehead with the lipstick. Then, he put twin pairs of red stripes across Martin's face.

Douglas snickered. "NOW we're ready, Captain."

Martin sagged. "He wrote captain on my forehead in lipstick, didn't he?"

"Yes." Carolyn said. "He most certainly did."

"Fine." Martin said, snapping his headphones over his ears. "Let's go!"

Douglas strode forward, kicking the doors open, and they all ran into the street.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PFFFF, sorry this was so long! Got a bit carried away- but EH. XD Next chapter coming soon!

Chapter Four

The four of them ran through the woods, panting heavily.

Suddenly, a zombie heaved itself into their path, right in front of Martin. He yelped, shot it, and promptly tripped over its body.

"Go!" Douglas shouted to the others, reaching down to pull Martin up. "How many times is that now?"

"And now, I suppose you'll do that stupid little smirk of yours and tell me?" Martin huffed, out of breath.

"If there was time, perhaps." Douglas said, grabbing his arm and pulling him along. "I'll have to do it without the smirk, though. It's a shame, really- I do like the smirking part."

"Why can't you just mind your own business?" Martin said. His voice came out unintentionally high, though, and he turned red.

"You've fallen eight times now, Ms. Crieff. Or perhaps I should call you Junior?" Douglas said, a grin in his voice.

"Oh, shut up!" Martin snapped.

"Ms. Crieff? Junior" Arthur said, confused. "But- I thought-!"

"You too, Arthur!"

"How about all of you shut up?" Carolyn said. "It would make this all the more tolerable."

"It's not my fault Martin keeps tripping over his skirts." Douglas said innocently.

Arthur gasped in surprise. "Martin's wearing a skirt?! I never knew!"

"I'm not wearing any skirts!" Martin shouted. Suddenly, a loud moan sounded nearby.

"Oh, sure, bring them all here!" Carolyn said. "Just what we need."

"I'm afraid we already have called them." Douglas said. A zombie reached out from behind a tree, and he dug his axe into it. When he drew it out, the corpse sprawled across the ground.

"Look!" Arthur shouted, pointing over their shoulders. They all turned, and saw the first of the zombies staggering into view.

"Go, go, go!" Douglas said, and so they spun and continued in their race towards the plane.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"There she is!" Arthur said with glee, pointing ahead. "I see our plane!"

"Arthur," Douglas said, skidding to a stop, "care to mention what else there is?"

They all stopped.

"Oh, yeah! There's some dead-people-who-aren't-dead-"

Carolyn sighed, impatient. "They're called-!"

"Doesn't matter what they're called, they're everywhere!" Martin said hopelessly. "We're doomed! We've wasted our time!"

"No, we haven't," Douglas said, "But we're going to have to take care not to waste our ammunition."

"And you, Douglas, are wasting your breath." Carolyn said. "We can't kill that many. It's impossible! They're probably already in the plane."

"Haha, and the zombies are wasting away!" Arthur said. "Get it? Because we're all talking about- wasting?"

"No." Carolyn said.

"You don't get it? See, Martin said we're wasting our time- and then Douglas said-"

"I meant no, as in no one cares and you should stop talking now."

"Sorry to interrupt," Douglas said, "but I've just had an idea."

"All right." Carolyn said, raising her eyebrows and crossing her arms. "You have thirty seconds to get to the point."

"We need a distraction." Douglas said, "so we can get on the plane, start it, then pick up the last person who was providing the distraction."

Martin looked up and realized that everyone was staring at him. Well- except for Arthur, who was focused on tossing one of his shoes from one hand to the other.

"No, no, no!" he said, stomping his foot and clenching his hands into fists. "I understand why Arthur can't, but- what about you Douglas? You can do it!"

"Someone's going to have to start the plane under pressure, with the living dead breathing down their neck-"

Arthur giggled. "Silly Douglas, the dead don't breathe!"

"Fine. With the living dead at their neck-"

"If the living dead are at your neck, then you're probably already done for." Carolyn said, clearly enjoying herself.

Douglas paused for a second. "Very funny. Anyway, someone's going to have to start the plane while being pursued by the living dead-"

Arthur frowned. "But how would they get up the slide leading up to the plane door, if they can't really climb up things?"

They waited while Douglas gave it some thought.

"Someone's got to start the plane."

"Good point." Carolyn admitted.

"What- but- I can start the plane! I'm a PILOT!" Martin yelled.

"True, but you do run faster than I do." Douglas said. "Now, I want you to run past them, maybe shoot your gun in the air a little. We'll get on the plane, taxi, then you'll run in an arc and get on. It'll be fine. They can't go very fast."

Martin made an uncomfortable sound, shifting. "But-"

"Martin," Douglas said, putting his hands firmly on his shoulders. Martin reddened at the touch. "I will never, ever do anything to intentionally put you in danger. Nothing. Do you hear me?"

"Well-!"

"You're actually safer running from them than fighting your way past them to get to Gerti. Do you understand?"

Martin sighed, taking a deep breath and nodding.

"Then run." Douglas murmured in his ear. He spun him around.

Martin opened his eyes and fixed them in the distance, launching himself off his toes and tearing across the grass. He emerged onto the empty airfield, turning and shooting at the zombies. His bullets landed amidst them, and they immediately swiveled their heads in his direction.

"What was that all about?" Carolyn asked curiously. "Have you really gone so low that you would lie to him, just to manipulate him into helping?"

"Who said I was lying?" Douglas said. "I would never lie about something like this. Especially not to him."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Carolyn said, but Douglas had already slipped by and was creeping towards the plane.

"Follow." He said, and he sprinted. The dead who had stayed beside the plane growled and turned. Douglas leapt to the side as one approached and spun his axe around, cutting it in half. He landed, and whipped his weapon into another's face. Suddenly, another zombie reached up and grabbed his blade, but a gunshot sounded through the air and it fell to reveal Carolyn. She lowered her rifle.

"Thanks." Douglas said. "Cover me!" He grabbed the handle of his axe with two hands. Then, he ran, pushing any zombies who came close away, shoving the weapon into them and kicking them away with his heel. One zombie tried to grab his ankle, but his axe came forward and cut its arm off. He slid to a stop below the plane's door, and slung his weapon across his back as he grabbed at what remained of the blue exit slide. A grunt escaped his throat as he reached up with another hand. The material tore a little.

"Arthur, stay close!" Carolyn said, pointing her gun forward and squinting across it. Bam. Bam. Bam-bam-bam.

"Aw, gross!" Arthur said unhappily, now with both shoes in hand as he batted the dead away with them. "Mum, is Douglas up yet? This isn't very fun. Well, but you've probably already noticed that. You know, because of all the living-dead-who-"

"You will be the death of me, not these things." Carolyn groaned. She looked towards the plane, where Douglas had reached the top of the broken slide.

"Come on!" he called, stretching out his hand. Carolyn took it and Douglas heaved her up. Then, they both reached down for Arthur, dragging him aboard. Douglas ran to the flight deck, sitting down and hunching over the controls.

Martin, oblivious to all this, breathed heavily as he ran. He looked over his shoulder, clenching his teeth. There they were. Ugh. Hurry up, Douglas! He thought, listening to the zombie's groans mingle the sound of his shoes slapping runway pavement. His feet were starting to ache- these weren't shoes for running, he realized- and suddenly, he heard the most beautiful sound in the world.

The plane roared to life, engines warming up. It started moving.

And Martin turned, running with all the strength he had left, past the zombies, past the runways, the grass. He was sprinting. He was flying. Somehow, he even forgot about the dead behind him.

He spread his arms. It felt nice.

Running. He hadn't done it in a while.

Curls tossed and bounced in the wind.

Reality came back to him slowly, trickling past his eyes and into his mind, and when it had set back in he was near the plane.

He slowed down, turning to run alongside the huge craft. A pair of hands reached out. Martin grabbed them, jumping from the ground as he was pulled up, over, collapsing on the floor of the plane next to Arthur.

"Aaaand- done!" Carolyn said triumphantly, slamming the plane's door. "Douglas, we're ready for takeoff!"

"Is Martin all right?" Douglas called back.

"Yes! No more zombies!" Arthur said, doing a small dance. Well, it wasn't really a dance. It was more of just- heaving his body from side to side.

"Stop that." Carolyn muttered. "You're giving me a headache."

"I said, is Martin all right?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" Martin said, dusting himself off as he stood. He came forward tentatively, coming to stand behind Douglas.

"Um." He said, rubbing his arm. "Uh- well- about what you said…"

"You're welcome." Douglas said. "Now, would you mind sitting down and putting your seatbelt on? We have to- how did you put it, that one time?- 'fly some plane.'"

Martin made a face at the memory, then sat and strapped himself in.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The flight went rather well. It was almost easy to forget that the landscape below was teeming with life- or rather, un-life- but the plane couldn't go any further, due to a strange lack of gas, and it came time to land.

"We can't keep going." Carolyn said, looking down at her map. "The road branches off into the city after where we are now, maybe a little more. If we land, we have to do it now."

"We'll land, then." Douglas said. "Martin, are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be." He muttered nervously, squeezing his eyes shut and grabbing onto the arms of his seat.

"Well, I think this is BRILLIANT!" Arthur yelled from farther back. "We've never landed on an actual road before! Won't that be fun, Skip? What if there are cars?"

"Arthur, you're not helping." Carolyn said, as the plane started inching down. "But then again, when are you helping?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

Douglas stuck his head out the plane door, looking both ways, then dropped a rope ladder over the edge.

"A rope ladder?" Carolyn said in disbelief. "You had a rope ladder the whole time, and you didn't tell us?!"

"Must have slipped my mind." Douglas said, smirking as he climbed down.

"'Must have slipped my mind', he says." Carolyn grumbled. "'I'm also an idiot', he says."

Arthur looked at her questioningly. "But Douglas never said that!"

"Shut up."

Once they were all on the ground, they looked around. It was a city, with huge buildings and dirty cars- and it was all empty. A warm wind blew by, giving the whole place an eerie feel.

"We should find shelter." Martin stammered. "Just- for now. I don't feel safe out here."

"Yes," Douglas said, "especially since every zombie in the city is probably dragging itself towards the sound of our plane landing as we speak. Let's get as far away as we can."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

After what must have been an hour of walking, Douglas finally held out his arms. "Okay. Enough."

"Finally!" Carolyn said, leaning against a car. "Now, where do we-"

She never got to finish that thought, though, because a hand reached out from the window of the car she was leaning against, breaking the glass and grabbing her throat. Her eyes flew open- and then Martin pulled the trigger of his gun, launching a bullet through the zombie's head.

"Uh-oh." Arthur said quietly, and then the dead emerged, pulling themselves from behind the buildings around them. There weren't many, but they were surrounding them, which was unfortunate.

"We have to run in different directions!" Douglas shouted. "It'll confuse them!"

They did just that, hiding behind anything they could find. Carolyn shot a few zombies, and so did Martin. The only problem was, when Douglas had yelled, he'd attracted them to him. They surrounded him, grabbing for his axe as it whistled through the air.

"Douglas!" Martin shouted.

"Go!" he called back, wildly spinning as he fought the dead off. "Now!"

"Come on, Martin, you heard him!" Carolyn said, grabbing his arm. "We've got no other choice!"

"No!" Martin said, struggling against her grip. "We can still save him!"

"No, you can't!" Douglas yelled desperately. "Leave!"

Martin froze.

He saw that Douglas was already out of breath, sweat glistening as it ran down his face. He saw the zombies grab at him with their rotten arms, covered only by scraps of bloody sleeves.

With a sense of growing horror, he saw a few of the zombies reach out and grab his axe, holding it. He saw Douglas clench his teeth. He saw Douglas let go of his weapon.

He saw Douglas close his eyes.

And with that, he decided he'd seen enough.

It was sort of like when he ran on the airfield, but- different. This time, it was as if he was the plane, as if he was being propelled forward by some jet engine inside him. All noise receded- he could hear Carolyn shout as he tore free from her grasp, heard someone say 'no'- was it Arthur?- he couldn't tell- and then he was taking off, flying.

He didn't know how his gun had gotten into his hand, but he knew the trigger was at his finger and he fired, covering his face with his sleeve as he burst through the smoke of the shot.

Someone was screaming.

Was it him?

Bam. Bam. Bam.

"Martin!"

Douglas?

"Martin, they're gone! Martin!"

Martin slammed back into his body, realizing he'd been shooting at nothing. The zombies lay defeated around him. His hat had fallen off, too, and it lay awkwardly on the ground.

Douglas' mouth had opened just a little, in shock at the sight. Martin remembered to breathe, looking around him. Then, at Douglas.

"You…" Douglas said. "You idiot, I told you to go!"

"I've just saved your life- can't you be grateful, for once?!" Martin said, throwing up his arms.

"Way to go, Skip!" Arthur called, grinning and jumping up and down. "That was amazing!"

"It was?" Martin stuttered. "I- I mean, of course it was. Yes!"

All of a sudden, Douglas' eyes widened.

"Martin!" he howled, reaching out to him. "Behind you!"

But it was too late.

A stabbing feeling.

A bite.

Martin's eyes flew open, and he gasped. It took him a second to realize what had happened, and everything swam before his eyes in slow motion.

The pain flooded up Martin's side, and blood splattered across the ground. A bright, startling red. It almost hurt to look at it.

A loud sound. Something else was mixed with his blood now, and the zombie fell away from him. Smoke from Carolyn's rifle wafted through the air.

Martin's eyes met Douglas' for just a moment. They were both frozen.

And then, Martin's eyes filled with angry, desperate tears, and he stumbled forward. Towards his first mate. He barely breathed as he closed his eyes and reached out to him.

Douglas' arms opened and Martin fell into them, chin falling forward, over Douglas' shoulder as he grew weak at the knees. Tears rolled off his freckled cheeks, falling on Douglas' shoulder.

"No." Arthur said, voice barely audible, falling to his knees. His face crumbled. Carolyn turned away, putting a hand across her eyes.

Martin felt weak. His heart pounded.

"Martin…" Douglas said, his voice strained with a hint of tears. He held the short pilot, burying his head in Martin's soft, orange locks. "It should have been me… why wasn't it me? Why couldn't you just leave, you idiot?"

"It's okay, Douglas," Martin said weakly. He squeezed his eyes shut "I'm… I'm fine now!"

"Fine?!" Douglas said, his voice shaking. He felt Martin trembling in his arms, felt his grasp the fabric of his coat. "It's not fine, Martin, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

"You don't have to be sorry." Martin said, a shaky laugh escaping his lips. "Why are you apologizing? It's not like you. You never apologize, Douglas- you never-" But at that moment, his voice broke, and a choked sob clawed its way up his throat. Then, another.

"No." Douglas said suddenly, straightening up. "I'm not apologizing. Apologies won't save you now. Only a cure can do that."

He turned to the rest, a new fire in his eyes. "According to the article we read, we have a little more than 48 hours until Martin turns. I suggest we use that time. We can still do this. We can still save him. Do you agree?"

Arthur stood up. "Anything for Skipper!" he said, holding a fist to his heart. "Anything!"

"And you, Carolyn?"

She nodded. "Wouldn't dream of doing anything else."

Douglas set Martin on the floor, reaching into his backpack and finding a roll of bandages. He took off Martin's blood-stained shirt and set it aside, carefully winding the cloth around him. Then, he picked Martin's hat off the ground and placed it back his head.

He gently slid his arms under Martin and lifted him up, cradling him against his chest. "You should rest." Douglas said, "Though I doubt you'll be able to, with Arthur here with us"

Martin gave a weak laugh, and closed his eyes. The sight made Douglas nervous, but he shook the thoughts away and looked ahead.

"We'll walk until our legs fall off!" he said, determined, and they picked up their things and continued walking down the street.

The light of the setting sun fell across them, illuminating the way forward. But they didn't need it. They already had their purpose.


	5. Chapter Five

**Author’s Note: Hi guys! Thanks for all the VERY helpful critique, and the other comments, too- ANYTHING helps! XD Well, here you go!**

Chapter Five

          It was nighttime, and the group was lying down in an abandoned post office.

          No one was sleeping, though. The sound of Martin’s inconsolable crying was keeping them all awake.

          They’d locked him in a room close by, just in case they were wrong about the two days they had. Somehow, though, that made them feel even worse about it.

          Arthur sat up. His eyes were weary, and he touched Douglas’ shoulder. “Douglas-?”

          Douglas rose. “I’m awake.” He looked crushed, so much so that even Arthur was taken aback.

          “Douglas, can’t we let him sleep out here? Please?” Arthur looked over at the door that Martin was behind. Then, back at Douglas. “He sounds so _lonely!_ ”

          Carolyn turned and spoke from a few feet away. “Arthur, you know why not. It would put us all in danger.”

          “But _mum_!” Arthur pleaded. His voice cracked, and his eyes glistened with tears. “We have to!”

          An especially pained, muffled sob leaked into the darkness.

          Carolyn looked down, sighing. “Arthur-”

          “I’ll go.” Douglas stood up. He took Martin’s gun from a table. “If he turns, I’ll shoot him.”

          “Are you sure?” Carolyn looked up at him, pursing her lips.

          “Yes.”

          Arthur let himself fall onto the blankets spread over the cold, tiled floor. He still didn’t think he was going to get any sleep.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

          Martin was curled in a ball on his blankets. He didn’t understand the noises coming out of him, or the anger, or why he couldn’t stop shaking. What did he have to live for, anyway?

          No, no, that was a stupid question. There was so much. There was being a pilot, and his friends at MJN. There were the crazy adventures they used to have. Everything. It wasn’t much, but the memories were with him, and he didn’t want to leave them.

          He didn’t want to leave.

          Martin squeezed his eyes shut, and he could feel the darkness pressing in on him as he let out another cry.

          Suddenly, heard voices from the next room over. They rose and fell like waves- but suddenly, just as soon as they started- silence. What were they discussing? Martin listened carefully, just in case something else was said.

          Suddenly, footsteps.

Martin opened his eyes a crack. The door had opened, and he could see Douglas’ shoes.

          _What’s he doing here?_ He thought, looking up-

And saw that Douglas had a gun in hand.

          His blurred mind jumped to the only awful conclusion he could think of, and then his eyes were snapping open and he was jumping up, wincing with the pain from his side. He backed up as far as he could, until his back hit the wall of the small room.

          He was screaming inside. _He’s going to kill me! They’ve decided to kill me!_

          “No!” he cried out in terror, shielding his face with his hands. “Not yet, not yet! Douglas, please!”

          It took a second for Douglas to realize what he’d done. He dropped the gun, holding his hands up. “Martin, don’t be stupid. I’m not here to kill you!”

          Martin looked down at the gun, then up at Douglas. His knees started shaking, and he slid down the wall, letting his face fall into his hands.

          Douglas cursed himself silently as he went over to help the pilot up. He reached out to him, and Martin took his hand, letting himself be led to the pile of blankets he’d been sleeping on.

          Once he’d been set down, though, he grabbed onto Douglas’ arms. Douglas saw that his hands were shaking.

          Martin looked up at Douglas, teeth clenched. Tears streamed down his cheeks. “Stay.” His voice was barely audible. “Please.”

          “I’m staying.” Douglas gave him a sad, searching look, prying Martin’s hands off his sleeves. He sat against the wall, next to him.

         Martin lay down slowly, looking up at his first mate. “Douglas…” he whispered, quietly, “Am I… going to die?”

          Douglas wanted to tell him that it would be all right, that they would get the cure- but he found that he couldn’t lie, not to him, so he looked him straight in the eyes.

          “I hope not.”

          He regretted it as soon as it was out of his mouth, as Martin’s eyes were filling with tears again. _Dammit, Douglas, you’re supposed to be helping!_

          “Martin, if we are on the right path, then we will save you. Don’t doubt that for a second. Until then, we have to search as much as we can, and walk as far as we can, and if we go down, we go down fighting. Do you understand?”

          Martin nodded. “Douglas…”

          “If you don’t go to sleep right now, though, I _will_ be forced shoot you.” Douglas said, closing his eyes. “I’m tired.”

          “But Douglas-!”

          Douglas put the gun to his head. “Martin,” he said, a warning tone creeping into his voice.

          “Don’t point that thing at me!” Martin yelped, batting it away.

          “Don’t make so much noise, then!” Douglas said. “You’re noisier than a jet engine. Or worse, Arthur.”

          “Hey!” Arthur said from the next room over.

          “Fine. Fine!” Martin said.

Douglas put the gun down, and closed his eyes. After a while, though, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched, so he opened his eyes.

          Martin was staring at him, and when Douglas turned to him- he fell to pieces.

          “DOUGLASIDON’TWANTTODIIIIIE!”

          The scream clawed its way up his throat like an animal, and Douglas took him by the shoulders.

          “Martin, you’ve got to-!”

His breaths were gasps now, and his face was red. “DOUGLAS-!”

          Douglas suddenly embraced him, pulling Martin to his chest. “It’s going to be okay… we’re going to cure you, Martin, I promise… shhhh, shhhh…”

          Martin tensed at his words at first, but then he let out a shaky breath and wrapped his arms around Douglas’ neck.

          After that, he gradually quieted down. The comfort of Douglas’ smooth voice soothed him, and exhausted, he drifted into a restless sleep.

          Once Douglas saw that his eyes were closed, he leaned over and gently set Martin back onto his blankets. But inside, his heart was twisting in knots, because he was holding the gun in one hand.

          Just in case.

 

         

         


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The climax approaches! MUAHAHA. This chapter got really emotional- but ah, I should just stop talking and let you read! Hope you enjoy! All and any comments/reviews/critiques are appreciated! ^_^

Chapter Six

          The sun beat down on the four survivors as they trudged through the empty city. They had been walking for hours, and sweat dripped down the sides of their faces. At the moment they were almost out of water, so a tiredness hung around them.

          All of a sudden, Carolyn stopped walking and looked around. Her eyes narrowed.

“We’re close.” She said, looking down at the address on the paper in her hands.

          “Wow!” Arthur said.

          Douglas sighed. “Should we even bother to ask this time?”

          “No.” Carolyn said flatly.

          “Why- why did you say ‘wow’?” Martin stammered. His eyes darted from Arthur to the ground.

          Douglas watched him carefully out of the corner of his eye.

          Arthur wiggled, barely containing his excitement. “Because- Mum said, ‘we’re close’! It’s just like in the movies!”

          “Correct me if I’m wrong,” said Douglas, “But isn’t that what the characters say right before they’re attacked?”

          Arthur’s eyes widened. “Really?”

          “No, not really!” Martin interrupted. “This isn’t a movie! This is four people who have no idea what they’re doing, sent on a quest by a crazy-”

          Suddenly, Carolyn shushed them. “Hide!”

          They ducked behind a house as three, four zombies dragged themselves from the shadows.

          “Think they heard us?”

          Douglas shook his head. “But they will, if you don’t stop-”

          Suddenly, a human scream shattered the silence.

          They all froze. A survivor?

          Arthur looked around frantically. “Where’s that coming from? Where-”

          And then, they saw it. It was a man, probably middle-aged, standing in the middle of the street. There was something… _different_ , though- none of the dead were attacking him. It was as if he was invisible.

          “We’ve got to help him!” Arthur pleaded. “He’s gone mad!”

          The man fell to his knees, clutching at his head as he continued screaming senselessly.

          Douglas shook his head. “No, that’s not what’s happening. Martin, look away.”

          Martin’s brow furrowed. “What? Why should I?”

          “I said, look away-”

          The man fell on the ground, convulsing in pain. His screaming grew louder, more desperate as he thrashed, until he choked and blood gushed from his mouth. After that, he was still. A pool of blood spread around him.

          Carolyn pushed past Douglas to get a better look. “What’s going on? He wasn’t wounded…”

          Douglas ignored her. “Arthur, make Martin look away.”

          Arthur shifted uncomfortably. “Skip, you heard him-”

          “No, I don’t have to listen to him!” Martin snapped. “I’m not scared of a little blood, you don’t have to baby me!”

          Douglas whirled. “Martin, turn away _now-!_ ”

          They heard a groan, pulling their attention back to the dead man.

          The man stood up, swaying- but it was no longer a man. He was dead.

          Martin froze, eyes trained on the new zombie.

          “Oh.” He whispered.

          Then, his knees buckled.

Arthur caught him, grunting under his weight. Douglas quickly went over and stood Martin up, leaning him against the wall of the house they’d hidden behind.

“Are you oka-”

Martin’s voice was trembling, soft. “How long was he in pain?”

          Douglas leaned in. “What-?”

          Martin furiously grabbed Douglas’ collar, shaking him- “I SAID, _HOW LONG WAS HE IN PAIN BEFORE HE TURNED_?!” His face turned red, breathing speeding up.

          Carolyn put her hand on his shoulder. “Martin, calm down- they’ll hear us, and come back! Martin!”

          “I… DON’T… _CARE_ … ANYMORE!” Martin shouted between labored breaths. His voice cracked as if his whole being were breaking. “WE’RE ALL… GOING… TO DIE… ANYWAY!”

          Douglas slapped him across the face. “Martin, get ahold of yourself! We’ve got to be quiet!”

          Suddenly, they heard another human voice.

          “Hello? Is anyone out there?”

          “We could use some help!” Carolyn called. “Please!”

          A few houses over, a window slammed shut and the front door opened. A man with a thin layer of curly, brown hair and a hint of a beard came out of it, holding a rifle. He saw the new zombie first, aiming and shooting it through the head.

          “NO!” Martin shouted. _They’re going to kill me like that, too. Just like that-_

The stranger strode over. “I have a tranquilizer dart-“

          “Do it” Douglas said, pinning Martin’s arm to the wall with his shoulder and holding his arm out with his hands. “Now!”

          The last thing Martin remembered was a sharp sting in the crook of his elbow, and then- peace.

          Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

          “So you were pilots, huh?”

          “Yeah. Seems like ages ago, now, doesn’t it?”

          The voices swam in Martin’s ears, and he blinked slowly.

          “Ah, it appears your pilot- Martin, was it?- is awake. Hello?”

          Martin’s eyes snapped open, and he shot up. A blanket fell from him, and he looked around. He’d been laid on a couch.

          Douglas approached him, touching his shoulder. “Martin- how… _are_ you doing, now?”

          It took Martin a heartbeat to remember what had happened, and then he turned his face away in shame.

          “I’m sorry.” He said, putting his head in his hands. “I’m- I’m so, so sorry- I wasn’t thinking straight, and-“

          “It’s okay, Skip!” Arthur said. “Actually, you sort of helped! We found Dr. Edward, and he’s nice!”

          Dr. Edward laughed. “Why, thank you, Arthur.”

          Martin nodded slowly. “I… yes! I helped! That was part of the plan!”

          Arthur put his hands on his hips, confused. “No it wasn’t!”

          “Shut up, Arthur.” Carolyn said.

          “No, it’s quite all right.” Dr. Edward said. “Now, Martin- would you like something to eat?”

          “Yes- yes, please.” Martin said, bringing his legs over the side of the couch and standing up.

          Dr. Edward smiled reassuringly. “Kitchen’s this way, just follow me. Meanwhile, why don’t the rest of you pull out those notes you said you had?

          Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

          Once they’d all gathered around the table in the dining-room, Douglas pulled out the binder. He dusted it off, and passed it across the table.

          Dr. Edward took the binder, pulling his reading glasses out as he opened it. He skimmed the letter that had come with it, and the pictures of the chickens. “Oh.” he said, nodding. “This looks _very_ promising!”

          Then, he looked at the strange notes.

          His brow furrowed.

          He squinted.

          The group waited with bated breath, until Dr. Edward broke the silence.

          “These aren’t chemistry notes at all. This is… gibberish. Nothing.”

          Douglas leaned forward incredulously. “What do you mean, _nothing_? It’s full of notes!”

          Dr. Edward shook his head. “No. These are just random combinations of numbers, symbols and elements. There’s no meaning to it.”

          Carolyn raised her eyebrows. “So… that’s it?”

          Douglas turned to her, a warning in his eyes. “Carolyn-”

          “I’m _fine_!” Martin yelled, slamming a fist onto the table. “Okay? I’ve accepted it! I’m fine now! So stop treating me like a five-year-old-”

          “Actually,” Dr. Edward interrupted, “This might not be the end.” They all turned to him. “If there’s one thing I know about Dr. Jenner, it’s that he loves a good puzzle. This is probably in some sort of code.”

          Arthur slumped onto the table. “But why would he do that? Is he just being mean? We _need_ that cure!”

          Dr. Edward shrugged. “They say most geniuses are a little bit insane, don’t they?”

          Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

          Hours had passed, and they hadn’t made any progress with the binder. Carolyn had left, so only Martin, Douglas, and Arthur remained.

          “Maybe we can make the letters and numbers into animal shapes!” Arthur exclaimed. “Then, each animal would be… a chemical, and…”

          Martin rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe… a chicken, like in the picture? Two chickens?”

          Douglas rolled his eyes. “That’s ridiculous.”

          “Maybe- the word ‘chicken’ is the key!” Arthur went on. “Or the word ‘Martin’! Didn’t the doctor’s letter say that Martin was- important, or something? Maybe we take those words away, or add them, or- or-” He sighed. “Come on, Douglas, you always solve these kinds of things!”

          “If I had solved it by now, I probably would have _told_ you.”

          “Have you solved it by now?”

          “No.”

          “Oh.” Arthur said sadly, turning away. “Okay.”

          “Maybe there is no cure!” Martin yelled, letting his face fall into his hands. “Maybe this guy was crazy. Maybe we’re all crazy! Maybe this is all a dream!”

          “I’m pretty sure we can count that last one out,” Douglas said, “But all we can do is _sincerely_ hope that he wasn’t crazy.”

          Martin slumped against the wall, voice a little weaker. “How much time do I have left?”

          Arthur hesitated.

          “Go on, tell him.” Douglas said, turning away.

          “You’ve got until tomorrow night.” Arthur whispered.

          Martin drew his knees up to his chest.

          “And we don’t know how much longer until you start screaming like that other guy.” Arthur added.

          Douglas raised his eyebrows at him.

          “What?” Arthur said, holding his palms up. “You told me to tell him!”

          “No, no, it’s okay.” Martin said. “I’m- I’m fine.”

          There was an awkward silence, until suddenly, Carolyn called. “Arthur! Come here!”

          “Gotta go!” Arthur said, standing briskly and casting a sympathetic look at the pair of them. “Um…” Unsure of what to say, he swallowed and dashed out.

          Douglas sighed, gathering the binder and the papers scattered around it. “Martin, we’ll try our best.” he murmured, standing-

          “Wait!” Martin said, catching his sleeve. He tugged it and looked away in embarrassment. “Um, I mean- could you- stay a little…?” A blush rose into his cheeks, and he bit his lip.

          Douglas sat next to him, raising an eyebrow. “And what, if I may ask, do you want to talk about?”

          “Just… a request.” Martin whispered. He turned and looked Douglas straight in the eyes. “Would you do something for me? About… when I…”

          Douglas could see his being, his entire soul, in those wide, pale blue-green eyes of his- and suddenly, Martin drew back. He ran a hand through his ruffled hair, and dropped his gaze.

          “Well, first of all,” Douglas responded firmly, “I still think that we can save you-”

          “Douglas, please?” Martin interrupted, turning to meet his gaze again. “I’m- I’m serious.”

          They were both silent for a moment.

          Douglas nodded.

          “What is it?”

          “I don’t want to become one of those… things.” Martin said, voice growing stronger as he unfolded himself and rose to his knees. “So when I’m about to turn, and it starts to hurt… can you be the one to shoot me?”

          Douglas took one look at his hopeful, innocent eyes, got to his feet, and stormed out of the room.

          “Douglas?” Martin called after him, scrambling up and wincing. “Douglas, what did I say? What did I do?” He ran into the hallway.

          Douglas whirled, gritting his teeth in fury. Slammed his fist into the wall beside him.

          “YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” he yelled. “IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN _ME_! I WAS GOING TO DIE! IT WAS _FINE_!”

          “Douglas- no, no, it’s not your fault-!”

          Douglas shook his head. “That’s a lie! That’s a filthy lie, and you _know_ it!”

          Martin shrunk back. “Douglas, you’re scaring me! Please! For me, you promised-!”

          “I promised no such thing.” Douglas growled. “I will cure you, if it’s the last thing I do-”

          Martin’s hands balled into fists. “NO, YOU WON’T!” he screamed, squeezing his eyes shut. “STOP GIVING ME HOPE! IT JUST MAKES IT HURT MORE! STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!”

          Douglas’ breath caught in his throat. Martin’s knees buckled, and he rushed forward to catch him- but Martin fought him, a blur of knees and elbows and screaming.

          “Martin! Martin, calm down- or I swear, I’ll use another tranquilizer-”

          “NO MORE SEDATIVES!” Martin raged. “DON’T TAKE THE TIME I HAVE LEFT FROM ME! IT’S ALL I’VE GOT!”

          Douglas lifted him, carrying him back to his bed. He tried setting him down, but he wouldn’t let go-

          Martin grabbed him around the neck, burying his face in his shoulder.

          “You- don’t- understand!” Martin gasped. He struggled to talk between heaving breaths.

          “Martin-”

          “You’re all- my family!” He sucked breaths in like a fish out of water. “I DON’T WANT TO LOSE YOU!”

          All of a sudden, between the sound of Martin’s labored gasps, Douglas heard another sound.

          “Oh no.” He muttered. “Arthur, Carolyn- feel free to come in now.”

          After a moment of hesitation, Carolyn led Arthur through the door. She had her arm around his shoulder, and he had his face in his hands. Dr. Edward stood behind them, gazing sadly at the scene.

          “D-don’t worry, Skip!” Arthur stammered, running to his side. Tears ran down his cheeks. “You’re our family, okay? We won’t let you go. We won’t let you die. I promise! I-”

          “That’s not _true!_ ” Martin said. “I’m going to die! It’s a fact!”

          “We won’t let you die in our memories!” Arthur choked, trying to keep his voice steady. “We’ll remember you! We’ll remember everything. The weird word games with Douglas. The lemons that always ended up taped to you. Trying to keep Douglas from stealing the whiskey. Toblerones. Vans. Pianos.” He stopped for a second to compose himself, voice jumping higher. “We can’t lose you, Skipper! We-”

          “Arthur, stop!” Carolyn said, and they were all surprised to see that her face was streaked with tears. “Just stop!”

          Arthur snatched the binder from the table it was on. “No!” he yelled, determined. “Never! We will find what’s hidden in these bloody notes, if it’s the last thing we do! Dr. Edward- can you stay with Martin?”

          “Of course.” Dr. Edward said, sitting on the bed. “Good luck.”

          Douglas cast one last look at Martin, and then they all swept out the door.

          A pause.

          “Can they do it?” Martin said softly.

          “I don’t know.” Dr. Edward replied.

 

         


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS  
> I know it's been AGES and AGES - I never ended up continuing this fic, and am currently focusing on other writing adventures (mostly this one original story I'm working on - it'll go up on [this account](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LR_Kingsley/profile) eventually! SHAMELESS ADVERTISING AAAA)  
> But anyway, out of the blue today, I found Chapter Seven in an old folder! It looks like I came within a hair of finishing it before I stopped.  
> It's entirely unedited, and I had to add the last two lines, but - here it is, four years late! ENJOY

Chapter Seven

It was near midnight when the storm began.

At first, only a few drops sprinkled across the house’s roof- but soon, the house shook with thunder, and lightning pierced the warm night. 

Arthur jumped at every flash, shivered at every rumble. Douglas was silent, as if he was made of stone. As if he was no longer alive.

“I don’t think we c an do it.” Carolyn said. She sat  down at the table with them. “Our time is running  out,  and… well…” She gestured towards the table, where many papers were carelessly spread. 

Douglas looked up at her, eyes tired.

“Then what do we do?” he asked.

Carolyn was taken aback.  Douglas, asking what to do.  Douglas. He was always the one who knew something interesting, a trick,  a  way out-  how had it come to this?

Arthur was obviously having similar thoughts.  “Don ’t say that!” He said,  grabbing his arm. “You always know what to do, Douglas!”

“Not today.” Douglas muttered. “I… I think we should go say goodbye.”

“No!” Arthur said  desperately , shaking his head wildly. “You can’t give up now!”

“What else is there to do?!”  D ouglas said, brushing  Arthur’s hand off. “It’s  over , Arthur, and if you don’t get over it now then you never will.”

Arthur’s lower lip trembled, and he turned away.

“Arthur, Arthur, I’m sorry…” Carolyn said.  “I know how much Martin meant to you-”

“What do you mean, ‘meant to you’?!” Arthur shouted, an edge of anger creeping into his voice. “He’s part of our FAMILY!”

“Shut UP, Arthur, I know, I know!” Carolyn yelled back. “But we can’t save him!”

“Why did he put it in code?” Douglas moaned. “Why didn’t he consider that we needed that code? If Dr. Edward can’t figure it out, then who  can ?”

“Dr. Edward was supposed to be able to!” Carolyn said, crossing her arms. “He didn’t ask US to decipher it, he asked us to deliver it to him!”

“But why?”  Arthur said. “ Why ?”

Carolyn shrugged. “We don’t know.”

Suddenly, there was a huge burst of thunder outside, and Douglas sat straight up.

“It’s just thunder.” Carolyn said  crossly . “It can’t-”

“No, it’s not that.” Douglas said. An excitement grew in his voice. He looked ove r to them.  “I have an idea!”

“What?” Arthur said, running to him.  “Really?  What is it?”

Carolyn put her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t get your hopes up, Arthur-”

“All right, consider this.” Douglas said quickly, organizing the papers on the table. “You’re a scientist, and you somehow know that there will be a zombie apocalypse in the United States. The authorities will flee the infected area. You know the antidote, and you MUST get it through.”

“Yes, yes, but why not just ship it in a box or something?” Carolyn said.

“Well,” Douglas mused, “It might be because the airport security could ask too many questions.

“That still doesn’t make sense!” Arthur whined. “Douglas-”

“Okay, okay, forget all that.” Douglas said, waving it off. “But look. Look!”

He pointed at the letter Dr. Jenner had sent with them.

Dear friends,

Hello! If you are reading this, you have opened the package I left you. Don't you know they say curiosity killed the cat? Ah, but if you've opened this package, I'm guessing that you have bigger problems than curiosity to worry about. Thanks so much for your help, though! If you ever need anything, anything at all, you can go to my friend, Dr. Edward. Just say that I sent you! In fact, if somehow you fail to deliver the package to its original destination, would you mind delivering it to him? He lives at 5475  Crownover  Street, in Missouri. But seriously, deliver it… OR THE DAYS OF YOUR LIVES ARE NUMBERED!  Haha , just kidding! I would never kill you.  Especially not your pilot, the short one.  He seems important.

Good luck, 

Dr. Jenner.

“Yes, yes, we’ve seen this!” Carolyn said. “What about it?”

“Look at this sentence- “The days of your lives are numbered.” What does that mean?”

“I don’t know- he’s just crazy, right?”

“Maybe.”  Douglas said. “But- do you remember that box of symbols and numbers that he boxed in?

They looked at it. It was the same as always-  9Br+15CA/Al9+K12 = 19Li – 2Na, for 15Ra and Fr8/B4 + 14In

“Now, he said ‘your days are numbered’- so  let’s only pay attention t o the numbers.” Douglas went on. “9, 15, 9, 12, 19, 2, 15, 8, 4, 14.  If he’s trying to tell us something in  words , then  we can a ssume- or hope- that these numbers  correspond to letter of the alphabet. So…” He wrote the letters on a piece of paper; I, O, I, L, S, B, O, H, D, N

“But that doesn’t mean  anything !” Arthur said, throwing his hands up.

“Not while it’s scrambled, it doesn’t.” Douglas said. He was grinning now. “ You’re a scientist, and you somehow know that there will be a zombie apocalypse in the United  States. The authorities will flee the infected area. You know the antidote, and you MUST get it through . How do you do it?”

“You’ve lost me.” Carolyn said, shaking her head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Douglas sighed, exasperated. “Where could you hide an antidote?”

He wrote on the piece of paper, writing letters down and erasing them from the list above. Arthur and Carolyn barely breathed.

I, I, S ,  H, N

BLOOD

Carolyn turned to Douglas, a hope rising in her eyes.  “In whose blood?  In-”

Douglas kept writing.

IN HIS BLOOD

“What?” Arthur said.  “But  who ?”

“The letter.”  Douglas said. “Do you remember what it said? ‘ I would never kill you.  Especially not your pilot, the short one.  He seems important. ’”

“YES!” Arthur shouted, jumping up and spinning around. “It's - it's in his blood! He's immune! MARTIN IS GOING TO LIVE! MARTIN IS GOING TO  LIVE!"

“We’re going to go tell him.” Carolyn said, excited. “Right now- what’s wrong, Douglas?”

Douglas had paled.

“Oh.” He said.  “Oh no.  That’s not a very good idea, Carolyn.”

“Why?” Carolyn said, brow furrowing. “What’s the matter?”

Douglas took a breath.  “ You’re a scientist, and you somehow know that there will be a zombie apocalypse in the United States. The authorities will flee the infected area. You know the antid ote, and you MUST get it through. Why wouldn’t you  just make it public, or not write it in code?”

There was a pause.

A realization.

“If…” Carolyn said slowly, a horror rising inside her- “If you don’t want someone to see it.”

“Why couldn’t Dr. Edward solve the code?” Arthur whispered.

Douglas sat down. “I… I don’t think our friend in the other room is Dr. Edward at all.”

Arthur swallowed.

“Then… who’s that with Martin?”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The man next to Martin smiled as he listened to the speaker in his ear. He pushed a button, and shut it off.

“Martin, I have great news!” he said. He smiled  widely, like a  sharl .

“What?” Martin said, sitting up. “Have you been …  listening to them?”

“Yes, yes!” the man said. “It appears that you will not turn into a zombie after all.”

Martin’s heart skipped a beat.

What?

But something was wrong, he could tell.

The man’s smile twisted into a smirk.

“Yes, yes…” the man said, reaching over and ruffling Martin’s hair. Martin grew still under his touch. “You’re not going to turn! How nice, how nice…”

“ Dr … Dr. Edward?” Martin stammered. He shook his head and crawled backwards- “What-”

“Oh, don’t be that way!” Dr. Edward  said. “You and your friends have been a big help.”

“I don ’t understand.” Martin said suspiciously, sliding off the bed and backing away. “What do you mean? A big help to  who ?”

 Dr. Edwards gave a polite smile.

Then, he pulled a gun from the breast of his coat. 


End file.
